April 7, 2009--ברכת החמה Birchat HaChammah (Blessing of the Sun)
Stan and I got into another argument at the Green Owl the other morning.
It started out benign enough. He had just been to church, a new one he told us. The Methodist place, “Where I like the priest,” he said.
“What happened? I thought you went to the Episcopal church.”
“Well, I used to. Until the priest there began talking about how he would marry gay people even though it’s against the law here in Florida.”
“Are you sure that’s what he said? I know there’s been controversy about ordaining homosexual priests, and some Episcopal priests agree to perform gay union ceremonies, so maybe that’s what he means.”
“No, he’s in favor of marrying them. I’m OK with allowing gays to come to the church but not get married there. I’ve been giving him a whole stack of things to read. Articles that show people choose to be gay. He keeps saying to me that it’s not a lifestyle choice. So I gave him some medical articles that prove it is, and that it can be cured. By giving them testosterone shots.”
“I know what you’re referring to Stan,” I said as calmly as I could—my food had arrived and I didn’t want to get so riled up that I’d lose my appetite, “I’ve seen that stuff too. And it’s pretty much bogus science. There is no credible evidence that lack of testosterone causes homosexuality.”
“And,” Rona added, trying to defuse the situation, “I know plenty of gay men back in New York and none of them have a testosterone problem. Quite the opposite, if you know what I mean.”
Stan didn’t get her little joke, and without missing a beat said, “You know, I’m beginning to think that the only religion that makes any sense is Judaism.”
This really caught us by surprise and I could barely think of what to say. “So,” I sputtered, “you’re always welcome but I think you’d find many rabbis who are openly gay and would also perform gay marriages.”
“Though,” Rona chimed in, if you did become Jewish (though it takes a long time to convert) this coming Wednesday at sunrise, you could participate in what some Jews call the Blessing of the Sun.” I looked over at her skeptically, she, like me, being a non-observant cultural Jew. “Really, I read about it in the New York Times. You’re bible,” she said to me with a playful look.
“It happens rarely, only every twenty-eight years. It is claimed to be at the same time and on the same day of the week as it was during the fourth day of Creation. When the sun and moon and stars were created.”
Stan and I agreed about one thing—Rona was making this up—so we stared at her skeptically. All the while our coffee was cooling.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, “So here, take a look at this.” She reached down for the Times, which was already folded back to the weekly “On Religion” column, and passed it to me.
Stan looked over my shoulder as I read about Birchat HaChammah, the very holiday Rona had referred to—one at which right after sunrise orthodox Jews recite the Blessing of the Sun.
Tomorrow, April 8th 2009 is one of these infrequent times when, it is claimed, at dawn the celestial bodies will be in that special alignment. By the calculations of the sages who think about and keep track of these occurrences, tomorrow will be astronomically equivalent to that remarkable Fourth Day. At 6:28 a.m. Eastern Time to be especially precise.
According to the most literally orthodox Jews this has happened just 206 times since Creation—all seven days of it—since that took place “only” 5,769 years ago. In 3760 B.C. according to our secular calendar.
I could see the implications of this slowing sinking in with Stan, who tends in his religious beliefs to be quite literal-minded. “You see, you’re making my point for me.” He winked to show us that though we disagree about most everything, we still share much affection, “About Judaism, I mean. Maybe I’ll be coming over to your church one of these days.”
“You mean synagogue,” I corrected him, also displaying my literal-mindedness, “But if you want to participate in a ‘service’ with us, since we don’t go there at all, you might want to come join us tomorrow morning on the beach. I’m sure we’ll be there at 6:28. It’s the kind of ceremony we can believe in.”
“And,” Rona added, “you never know.”
(If you doubt any of this about Birchat HaChammah, the Times article is linked below.)
It started out benign enough. He had just been to church, a new one he told us. The Methodist place, “Where I like the priest,” he said.
“What happened? I thought you went to the Episcopal church.”
“Well, I used to. Until the priest there began talking about how he would marry gay people even though it’s against the law here in Florida.”
“Are you sure that’s what he said? I know there’s been controversy about ordaining homosexual priests, and some Episcopal priests agree to perform gay union ceremonies, so maybe that’s what he means.”
“No, he’s in favor of marrying them. I’m OK with allowing gays to come to the church but not get married there. I’ve been giving him a whole stack of things to read. Articles that show people choose to be gay. He keeps saying to me that it’s not a lifestyle choice. So I gave him some medical articles that prove it is, and that it can be cured. By giving them testosterone shots.”
“I know what you’re referring to Stan,” I said as calmly as I could—my food had arrived and I didn’t want to get so riled up that I’d lose my appetite, “I’ve seen that stuff too. And it’s pretty much bogus science. There is no credible evidence that lack of testosterone causes homosexuality.”
“And,” Rona added, trying to defuse the situation, “I know plenty of gay men back in New York and none of them have a testosterone problem. Quite the opposite, if you know what I mean.”
Stan didn’t get her little joke, and without missing a beat said, “You know, I’m beginning to think that the only religion that makes any sense is Judaism.”
This really caught us by surprise and I could barely think of what to say. “So,” I sputtered, “you’re always welcome but I think you’d find many rabbis who are openly gay and would also perform gay marriages.”
“Though,” Rona chimed in, if you did become Jewish (though it takes a long time to convert) this coming Wednesday at sunrise, you could participate in what some Jews call the Blessing of the Sun.” I looked over at her skeptically, she, like me, being a non-observant cultural Jew. “Really, I read about it in the New York Times. You’re bible,” she said to me with a playful look.
“It happens rarely, only every twenty-eight years. It is claimed to be at the same time and on the same day of the week as it was during the fourth day of Creation. When the sun and moon and stars were created.”
Stan and I agreed about one thing—Rona was making this up—so we stared at her skeptically. All the while our coffee was cooling.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, “So here, take a look at this.” She reached down for the Times, which was already folded back to the weekly “On Religion” column, and passed it to me.
Stan looked over my shoulder as I read about Birchat HaChammah, the very holiday Rona had referred to—one at which right after sunrise orthodox Jews recite the Blessing of the Sun.
Tomorrow, April 8th 2009 is one of these infrequent times when, it is claimed, at dawn the celestial bodies will be in that special alignment. By the calculations of the sages who think about and keep track of these occurrences, tomorrow will be astronomically equivalent to that remarkable Fourth Day. At 6:28 a.m. Eastern Time to be especially precise.
According to the most literally orthodox Jews this has happened just 206 times since Creation—all seven days of it—since that took place “only” 5,769 years ago. In 3760 B.C. according to our secular calendar.
I could see the implications of this slowing sinking in with Stan, who tends in his religious beliefs to be quite literal-minded. “You see, you’re making my point for me.” He winked to show us that though we disagree about most everything, we still share much affection, “About Judaism, I mean. Maybe I’ll be coming over to your church one of these days.”
“You mean synagogue,” I corrected him, also displaying my literal-mindedness, “But if you want to participate in a ‘service’ with us, since we don’t go there at all, you might want to come join us tomorrow morning on the beach. I’m sure we’ll be there at 6:28. It’s the kind of ceremony we can believe in.”
“And,” Rona added, “you never know.”
(If you doubt any of this about Birchat HaChammah, the Times article is linked below.)
posted by Steven Zwerling at
7:30 AM
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